Best for Last
by pinkmink
Summary: Ichabbie ficlet - Set after season 3 episode 14 - Abbie and Crane have a chat about her new 'do. Cute and sweet!
_Cause how can you give your love to someone else_

 _And share your dreams with me?_

 _Sometimes the very thing you're looking for_

 _Is the one thing you can't see._

 _And now we're standing face to face_

 _Isnt' this world a crazy place_

 _Just when I thought our chance had passed_

 _You go and save the best for last._

Abbie rolled her eyes as Vanessa Williams crooned over the old speakers of her salon. Even before she was a witness she had always been more attuned with the "universe" as she often called it and while it had been known to help her most times it just annoyed her - especially when the universe was trying to tell her things she was trying to ignore. Luckily the universe had a pretty persistent assistant - Jenny leaned over and pinched her arm playfully, winking at her under foil wrapped tresses. She doesn't miss much either.

Marla was "tsk"ing behind her, unsure how to proceed with all of this new hair. The poor woman nearly fell over when Abbie first walked in, insisting that she had just seen her a few months before, and how on earth had she grown all that hair since then?!

"Uh, I tried a new shampoo…?" Abbie was no longer surprised at how quickly the lies came to her when it came to her real job - or how often they were believed, not matter how ridiculous.

"Well darling! I'd say it did some work!" Marla marveled at her natural tresses, hardly contained in the loose ponytail at her nape. She loosened the elastic and it sprang beautifully around her head like a mane. "You sure you want to keep it this way? You've been straightening it for so long…."

Abbie paused to contemplate her reflection, her hair three times the size of her own head - but her mind wandered back to a conversation she had with Crane a week before...

* * *

There was a stillness to Abbie that she longed to get back - her time in the Catacombs and then subsequent weeks after had left her feeling on edge unceasingly - even in her sleep. And though the symbol had brought her some comfort it was a new, electric and alert kind of feeling - she wanted to get back to the old. She could still her body and her thoughts and concentrate - sort of like meditation, but it was a way for her to center herself, get some clarity. Her life rarely allowed her much time to think but after all she'd been through - that's all she wanted.

She sat on her front porch, the last of the dying sunset streaking pinks and yellows across the sky. Inside she could hear Crane cooking - but the smell had yet to waft its way outside. Instead she focused on the sounds, tucking her legs underneath her on the swing and closing her eyes. She could hear a light breeze as it made it's way through the birch tree in her yard, stirring the leaves. The faint sound of oil cracking as food was added to a pan. The subsequent gurgle from her stomach in response. And finally her heart beat - steady, constant, in time with her long breaths. Here was her place of rest - and here is where she always seemed to find Crane. Her mind turned as she shut everything else down to her fellow witness. Not for the first time she tried to explore the feelings surrounding him without poking around too much - much like you would handle an ancient priceless artifact. Did she feel drawn to him because of their divine task? Or was it something else? Or did it matter what it was - only that she felt like she was finally home when he was around? Was she angry at fate for taking her ability to choose her partner away from her - or was she undeniably happy that fate had worked so hard to bring her such a person?

In those ten months any negative feelings she had towards him about leaving after Katrina's death had vanished - not that there was much to begin with. She had seen a therapist to deal with her abandonment issues - and it wasn't as if she hadn't felt betrayed on some level. But in her gut she ached for his loss - even in her moments of encouraging him to pick saving the world over his wicked family, her heart was breaking for him. Somehow she knew he would return and she found in her quiet reflection that she didn't blame him for his actions. The amount of strength it took for him to go through that and come out of it fighting yet still soft somehow - she admired it. Wanted to emulate it in her return to the real world - but found that while she was good at the fighting part, the thing she lacked was the ability to show any vulnerability.

And she wanted to be vulnerable - just a little. And just to a select few.

The sound of scraping shoes behind her brought her brain forward, out of her trance. She blinked a few times to clear her sight and saw that the sun had completely set. The porch light had been turned on. She turned to the sound and there he stood, inside the screen door and pensive, ghost of a smile across his lips.

"I didn't mean to intrude Lieutenant only, dinner is finished." Crane's voice was low - he spoke as if he was waking her up. "I can leave it in the oven for you-"

"Nah, its fine." She shook her head to clear it, standing and stretching. Damn time had flown - but she felt marginally better. "I'm starving."

"Splended!" His face lit up and he opened the door for her. He wore his usual soft cotton shirt and breeches, a dishtowel on his shoulder. "Miss Jenny had suggested that I try an old recipe of your mothers - I'm not sure I did it due justice, so please be frank in your criticism."

The smell hit her before he finished his sentence and her senses lit up along with her features. "Did you make creamed eggs?" She looked up at him curiously.

"It wasn't a terribly complicated recipe - so I'm sure that I'm missing something nuanced. Your sister indicated this was your 'comfort food' and-oh!" Abbie cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a crushing hug.

He recovered from his shock quickly and returned it in kind, wrapping his long arms around her small waist. What started off as an enthusiastic hug turned softer, more tender. She slid her body down his as she lowered herself from her toes to rest her head on his chest, arms still around his neck. She was absolutely floored by his thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you made that. I haven't had it in years."

"If there is anything I can do to increase your comfort Lieutenant, I will endeavor to do so." He murmured against her hair, raising his hand to cup her head gently. They didn't move except to breathe the other in, feeling their bond hum between them. She could sense a nagging part of her brain telling her to pull away - the hug had lasted longer than would be considered conventionally "friendly". But she pushed the thought down, closing her eyes and focusing on his heartbeat, steady in his chest.

While her brain meekly obeyed her heart's desire to stay, her stomach betrayed her - and growled loudly. He pulled away from her with a surprised grin, his blue eyes shining. "I hasten to part from you but it seems your stomach has a different agenda."

A faint blush filled her cheeks as she pulled away with a shy smile, keeping her head down hoping to avoid any tender looks. "Yeah, I haven't had much to eat today."

"And how was your day?" Crane stepped into the kitchen and began to serve up the meal - simple as it was. Toast, with sliced hard boiled eggs and a white cream sauce - topped usually with salt and pepper. In what appeared to be an attempt to make it fancy, he had poured her a glass of white wine - and she melted to see it. Surely there was going to be a time again when he didn't try to spoil her to help her back into the land of the living but damned if she wasn't going to enjoy the hell out of it while it lasted.

"Loooong. But uneventful which is a nice change." She smirked, taking a quick sip before digging into the plate he set down in front of her. "What about yours?"

"I'm afraid much the same. Sometimes I fear that we get too accustomed to the madness that it's hard to enjoy the quiet days. I suppose our lives can be rather adrenaline filled which is itself very addicting." He talked but didn't touch his dinner, instead waiting to see her reaction as she took a bite. It was *perfect*. Like he said, it wasn't a terribly complicated recipe, but the richness of the sauce was just right. She could feel her entire body relaxing as she chewed, and she briefly closed her eyes.

"Mmmmm oh, yes!" She smiled. "Knocked it out of the park, Crane. This is exactly what I needed." Taking a deep breath she held his gaze, wanting him to understand how much this meant to her. "Thank you."

His features turned soft and he smiled tenderly. "I am very pleased to hear that." He began to dig into his meal as she paused, her hair falling into her face as she ate. Quickly she pulled it back into a bun that she had only taken out earlier to try to relax on the porch.

"Oh -" Crane said quickly, then stopped.

"What?" Abbie looked up at his face, his mouth sort of twisted.

"Only - well it's not my place." He said quickly, taking a sip of his wine.

"Spill it."

Taking a breath, he continued. "I've been meaning to tell you - since your return from the Catacombs." He chose his words carefully, which was curious to Abbie. "Your hair-"

"Oh, it's all over the damn place." Abbie scoffed, returning to her meal. "I've got an appointment next week with my stylist to straighten it again. This is about the only thing I can do with it." She pointed to the bun.

"Well certainly I don't have a great deal of room to talk about hair." He quipped, smirking. "But I wanted to tell you - this change, it - well, it suits you."

This gave her pause - he'd never said anything about her hair before, or really much about her appearance. It wasn't that she hadn't caught him staring at her on occasion (to her confusion and equal thrill), but to actually speak it out loud - that was a change.

"Far be it from me to influence your 'style'." He continued, with quiet air. "But I think it's beautiful."

She couldn't help the look she gave him - shock and panic plastered across her features as she stared at him across the table. Her heart sped up and she was fairly certain it beat so loud he could hear it. His content, shy look turned to reflect her panic - certain he said something wrong, and he flustered.

"Of course, you're always beautiful Lieutenant, so please disregard my suggestion. What do I know of modern -"

"You think I'm beautiful?" Her panicked expression hadn't changed, and the words flew from her lips as soon as she thought them. He looked like he might throw up on the table, and opened his mouth to speak a few times before finally answering.

"It's no secret that you are a beautiful woman." He said gruffly, returning to his meal, unsure how to proceed.

His flustered attitude knocked her out of her shock and amused her. She smiled broadly, winking at him - it was just too easy to tease him in this state. "Well yeah, I just didn't know that you thought so Crane."

He took a deep breath, his expression long suffering, before looking back into her eyes. His were crystal blue and piercing - somehow he had a way of looking straight through her. Any brief confidence she felt was zapped away and she was mesmerized - these moments between them were so rare but so powerful. These moments that could be so much more - lead them down a different, more dangerous but possibly more fulfilling path. Where they spoke words that often meant something completely different.

"Abbie, were I a more clever man, I could write sonnets about your eyes alone." He blinked and paused, her heart now thundering in her chest. The moment too intense, he leaned back slightly and cleared his throat before continuing with his shy smile. "But yes - I've always admired your beauty, both on the outside and inside."

To her own surprise she smiled broadly - she's not one for compliments, and is usually terrible at taking them. She reached her hand across the table and he reached his to meet it - tenderly she squeezed his long fingers.

"You really have to stop spoiling me, Crane." Her words were snarky but her tone was soft, and he relaxed, holding her gaze.

"Never." He replied. Quietly they remained that way for a beat, then released, returning to their dinner.

* * *

"You know what? I think I'm going to keep it." Abbie smirked, feeling sassy. "I think it's high time I let it go natural, at least for a while."

"If by go natural you mean-" Jenny started with a snarky grin. That woman could make innuendo out of anything. But she knew her sister better than almost anyone - and she was keeping it like that to please a certain British captain.

"I MEAN natural, Jenny." Abbie interrupted, widening her eyes and returning to Marla. "So just shape it, if you would. And do you have some really amazing conditioner?"

* * *

A/N - Hey guys! I'm new to Sleepy Hollow fanficing and feedback would be greatly appreciated! I just hopped on the Ichabbie train and I'm so very ashamed it took me this long! How cute are they? UGH!


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